


his kiss, the riot (inside turmoils)

by cryystal_m00n



Series: obligatory cliche tropes [12]
Category: The Rose (Band)
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Past Character Death, Self-Acceptance, the kiss of the rabbit god inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 08:52:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21296807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryystal_m00n/pseuds/cryystal_m00n
Summary: years, decades, centuries ago, a young soldier fell for a provincial officer.
Relationships: Kim Woosung | Sammy/Lee Jaehyeong | Jeff
Series: obligatory cliche tropes [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1080975
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	his kiss, the riot (inside turmoils)

**Author's Note:**

> this is inpired by the short film 'the kiss of the rabbit god'. it's great and it's based on a chinese myth, if you have some time pls watch it, you won't regret it!!!  
tw// woosung carves the symbols jaehyeong has on his own chest. it's not graphic, but if it can be triggering please skip the last two paragraphs in the third part of the fic  
anyways!!!! happy bday to my flower prince jaehyeong🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 i hope you have a great birthday and i can't wait to see you live my dude :((((((((((

years, decades, centuries ago, a young soldier fell for a provincial officer. he spied on the man, in hopes of seeing him naked, even if it was just for a fraction of a second. he held his feelings close to himself, never speaking of them aloud in fear of the consequences he would suffer. 

that is, until he gathered up the courage to do so, after having seen the reason for his heartache bed another man, a young and handsome boy, who left the officer’s quarters in the dead of the night. 

the young soldier confessed, but to his surprise he was met with disgust from the officer. so much so, that a few days later other soldiers,  _ his friends, _ dragged him out of his bed and took him outside, where his desired man waited for him, a sword and a whip in each of his hands. 

years, decades, centuries ago, a young soldier died at the edge of the sword of the one holding his heart. 

he woke up with a new chance hanging above his head, a gift from the gods. he was to be reborn as a god himself, as a young rabbit that would protect forbidden lovers from the pain he had endured. 

the young soldier agreed, thanking the gods for the mercy they showed him. 

he walked the world as a rabbit by day (which in time he had learned to control) and as a man by night, and though he never looked like his old self, the young soldier loved being able to help people like him, who were confused and scared of what their future could hold for them.

with red dyed hair and red eyes, the young soldier helped anyone who needed him with an open heart and a warm smile. 

that was until he met a certain bartender that changed everything in jaehyeong’s life. 

* * *

the rustle and bustle of the glasses makes woosung sink back into himself. he never liked this job, but somehow, he stuck around even after having finished university because the boss liked him and some of the regulars mentioned just what an amazing listener he is. 

and so, with very little complaints, woosung had to stick around. at least his bosses are nice, though a bit… eccentric. they make him feel almost as if he belongs there, as if he’s part of the family. 

the atmosphere around him, on the other hand… he doesn’t feel welcome when minho and taehyung aren’t there. he feels alone, and every sad story he acquires from the customers coming only make this feeling deepen. 

he’s had people come in ready to take their own life, he’s had people going through divorces and heartbreak, and with each new addition he’s given a bit of his heart away in hopes they will feel better. 

woosung may not enjoy his job as a bartender, but what he enjoys even less is when people are sad around him. he can’t stand this thought, can’t even think it for more than a few seconds before he gets sick to his stomach. 

his job is a blessing and a curse, but the man still can’t bring himself to leave and search for something better, for something that won’t make him feel exhausted or sad, for something that could help him heal his heart in some way or another. 

“you need a girlfriend or something, sung,” his coworker and friend, hajoon, says, bringing him back to the busy bar. 

“i’m ok, joon, i don’t need… a girlfriend or something.” he tries to smile at the younger, but his eyes catch the figure of a person near the end of the counter, all alone and staring at him. “y-you should head home, ok? it’s getting late and i can’t have a baby walk all alone through the streets of seoul.”

hajoon doesn’t question his weird behaviour, and with one last hug, he leaves, coat hanging over one of his shoulders in an attempt to look cool. 

woosung’s eyes fall back on the mysterious person. the red hair is their most noticeable feature by far, but what makes him quirk an eyebrow are the shades covering their vision. they’re just as red, but they are… small, in a chic way. 

the person doesn’t look like a person who would spend their friday evening in a bar, but who is woosung to judge? the bartender makes his way towards them, his fingers brushing over the surface of the marbled counter. it’s squeaky clean, but something inside him tells woosung he  _ has _ to clean it again. 

“what can i get you?” he asks them, eyeing the rather unique choice of outfit. it’s all one solid shade of red, and woosung would be lying if he were to say it looks bad on them. someone stop him before the stranger notices the creepy staring. 

“a negroni if you can, sweetheart,” they say with a smirk, whilst pushing their glasses up just a bit.

woosung bites back a snort, and reaches for the required alcohol. he mixes their drink quickly and slides it across the counter for them to enjoy. his gaze is fixed on their lips (also dark red) as they sip the cocktail with such elegance that woosung feels his pants grow tighter just from it. 

it’s not often he gets turned on by people doing something as simple as drinking, but when it happens, he knows he’s in too deep already. 

“i’m shen,” the person says, holding a ten thousand won bill in between their fingers for woosung to take, “but i’d rather you call me jaehyeong.”

“shen? like god?” woosung asks as he puts the bill away in the cash register. 

shen-- jaehyeong smiles knowingly. “something like that, woosung.”

he doesn’t get to turn around and give them the change back (and also ask them  _ how _ do they know his name) because a gush of cold air hits him, and when he manages to spin to where jaehyeong was, he only finds an empty chair. 

maybe they were in a rush…

* * *

after that, woosung doesn’t see jaehyeong for at least a week, not that he’s been counting or anything like that. it’s just that, despite having only met jaehyeong once, they left an memorable impression on woosung. one that he can’t seem to shake out of his head no matter how much he tries to. 

they are like a red shadow in the corner of his mind, always present, even if he doesn’t see them properly. it’s scary how just one interaction left woosung craving more. 

there is no more distraction for woosung after jaehyeong’s absence reaches three weeks. the memory of the person named god starts to fade, and all he can think about is how  _ no one  _ asks for a negroni when they come in the bar. 

his gaze does shift to the chair they used, but he starts to forget why. stress and sleep deprivation take a toll on him, and before he can realize it, it’s nearing november and the little gigs minho and taehyung organize on saturdays are back. 

but even with the new array of  idiosyncratic people that come to perform, he doesn’t see jaehyeong again. 

until november third, when out of nowhere, just as he is closing the bar, across the street he sees red. the exact same shade, which even if he wanted, he couldn’t erase from his memory. 

woosung frowns, his finger just above the button to close the  _ open _ light sign. 

jaehyeong heads his way with a sway of their hips, pulling their glasses up just to wink at woosung over them and the bartender  _ swears _ their eyes are scarlet. he opens the door for them, and when they slip inside the warm bar, they eye woosung up and down. 

and after that, woosung more or less blacks out. 

he only comes back to his senses when jaehyeong is kissing him, pushing the smaller up the wall and breathing heavily down his neck as they bite and suck and kiss and wow… that’s new. woosung never thought he could feel like this, so small and fragile, ready to comply to whatever the other person wants. 

woosung’s uneven breaths fill the room, until all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and the pants he lets out. jaehyeong is quiet-- experienced, he would say-- only speaking when they want to praise woosung for how well he’s doing, for how nice he feels in their arms and how soft he is. 

hands fly to jaehyeong’s red shirt, pulling at it desperately in hopes of getting to feel them on his skin. his fingers brush over something akin to scar tissue, and when he pulls back to see at what was hidden under jaehyeong’s shirt, he finds… something he’s sure he’s seen before. a wheel almost of symbols, all carved into jaehyeong’s chest, still red despite the wounds looking old. 

“did they… hurt?”

jaehyeong takes a hold of his hand and guides him to the bathroom, pushing a small knife in his hand and holding woosung’s arm up, until the blade is pushed  _ just _ almost in his skin. “why don’t you try it?”

and woosung simply closes his eyes and let’s jaehyeong help him carve away. 

* * *

november third, early morning. that’s what woosung thinks it is, if he were to judge by the sun creeping past his curtains. there is a hot body next to him, and when he turns around in their arms, woosung is met with firey red hair and a scarred chest. 

he snuggles closer to jaehyeong, arms sneaking around their middle and pulling them close. he doesn’t remember much from last night, just the way jaehyeong felt against him, and how with each touch woosung’s skin was on fire. 

the redhead’s hands come to rest on woosung’s ass as they hum at the feeling. “you know, today’s supposed to be my birthday,” they say, voice still drowning in sleep and tiredness. 

“well, happy birthday!” woosung exclaims as he presses a kiss on their chest. “i’ll make you breakfast, how does that sound?” 

“can i have some pancakes if you don’t mind?” they ask, their vermillion eyes drooping from the sleep that still lingers in them. 

woosung curses himself for agreeing to make them breakfast. he can only make cereals and milk. “of course! i can make you the best pancakes you’ll ever have!”

jaehyeong pouts up at him when he stands, and woosung has to lean down and kiss the pout away from their lips. they may have a fierce look with the whole red attire they’re so fond of, but right now, woosung thinks that the only word that can describe them is  _ baby. _

it’s something about jaehyeong, something woosung can’t put his finger on quite yet, that intrigues the man so much. he wants to find out everything about them, everything that they are willing to share with him. he wants jaehyeong to be a constant in his life. 

images of blood dripping down his hand come back to him. he snaps out of it, almost dropping the pan on his foot. his hands pull at his sleeping shirt (incredibly red and way too big, totally not his) throwing it on the floor. 

there, on his chest, are the same symbols jaehyeong had on theirs. it looks healed, as if he was born with the foreign words adorning his skin. as if he didn’t do this to himself. 

everything feels like a dream. 

arms wrap around his middle, a chin rests on his shoulder. woosung settles back against their chest, just as naked as his, and he thinks that maybe, if this is truly a reverie, he doesn’t want to wake up. be it a nightmare or a beautiful dream, he wants to see how it finishes. 

“happy birthday, shen,” woosung whispers. he feels jaehyeong smile against his neck. 

“you did call me god a few times last night too, y’know?”

the bartender just hits the redhead’s hands lightly, but he doesn’t push them away. 

* * *

years, decades, centuries ago, a young soldier fell for an officer. he was tortured for the love he felt, but that never stopped him from helping others. and contrary to what most may think, it never stopped him from falling again. 

in our days, the young soldier who became a rabbit god finally found love, and when he confessed this time, he wasn’t tortured but met with shy smiles and shier kisses. 

jaehyeong may have had his heart broken by huo xheng, but with the help of kim woosung, he had it healed and so he learned what love is supposed to feel like. 

it was his birthday when he gathered the courage to confess and ended up dying; it was his birthday when he gathered the courage to see woosung again and cultivate something more with him. 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/cryystal_moon)   
[curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/cryystal_moon)


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